Get Me to the Church on Time

Installment #2 of my attempt to attend a service at Duke Chapel in Durham, North Carolina: If you remember, Lori and I were unsuccessful in our first attempt, due to a wrong turn and a broken foot peg, so this time we drove a reliable automobile to ensure that we would not be late. Inevitably, there was limited parking and even with our borrowed handicap-parking stickers, the service had already begun by the time we arrived. Not to worry, we found an empty pew (sp?) and did not miss much. The Chapel, much like the rest of the buildings on Duke's campus, was built from local stone and is impressive both in size and interior design. The English Gothic architecture, as explained to me by Lori's Dad, Bob, gives it a stoic, European feel both inside and out. Dane and I came up for the weekend to see Lori, now living in Durham, and her family. We also planned to attend a women's arm wrestling tournament on Saturday night and go to the North Carolina State Fair on Sunday after church. Duke was originally a Methodist school and the service followed suit, though it did its best to incorporate a variety of different Christian traditions. The Minister who gave the sermon was fun to listen to as he did a fantastic job of making the parable of the stubborn widow and the unjust judge colorful and culturally up-to-date. He recounted the story as if it had happened yesterday, complete with modern-day reporters covering each day's events and an anecdote involving T-shirts with printed slogans saying "Grant me Justice!" What a great way to engage the listener. The message: Never give up, never lose faith in what you know is right, and God will grant you justice. This is a hard pill to swallow with so much tragedy in our world. A man beats cancer and is told he will eventually die of AIDS. A woman in an abusive relationship decides to leave her husband and she and her two children are killed in a car crash on the way to her sister's house. Where is the justice in that? It is so easy to give up, to give in to cynicism and hopelessness. To believe that you do not deserve a healthy, happy existence in this life or the next. And yet we wake up each morning and continue on, jumping the hurdles that stand in our way and giving thanks for the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. "What blessings?" you ask. Life, love, purpose, understanding, family, friends, beauty, laughter, food, good health, and the ability to keep on fighting, one day at a time. And music! As the voices of the choir filled the chapel, urged on by the majestic organ drone, the only thing that seemed amiss was that we were being asked to dig into our pockets to fill the church coffers instead of truly reveling in the beauty of the moment. Luckily, the choir redeemed itself by singing an a cappella hymn to close out the service, a truly beautiful moment that reminded me what we humans are capable of when we come together to give thanks for the things that we can never understand.